


Survival of the Fittest

by mdr_24601



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Johanna Mason-centric, The Capitol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdr_24601/pseuds/mdr_24601
Summary: Johanna knows all alliances fall apart eventually. Finnick doesn't seem to care.
Relationships: Johanna Mason & Finnick Odair
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Survival of the Fittest

He was twenty when they met. She was eighteen, on her Victory Tour, abrasive and harsh even back then. They had met at her Victory Party in the Capitol. He was slightly drunk and she was rude and moody. They made a good pair that night, the two of them. 

"Need another drink?" Finnick slid up to her, where she was perched at the bar. Johanna saw him, wrinkled her nose in distaste, and responded. 

"Why? You want an alliance?" It was funny because neither of them were in the arena anymore, and alliances were futile now. But this was a new game.

Finnick shrugged. "I hear Four-Seven alliances are very popular these days. Something about the mix between brains," he pointed to himself, "and brawn," he finished, pointing to her.

Johanna snickered softly. She accepted a drink from the bartender and made a show of sipping it tastefully. "And what makes Four the brains? Wouldn't we be better off allying with Three?"

"Maybe, but I have something that Three doesn't," Finnick smiled easily. 

"Oh, of course," Johanna deadpanned. "Yes, Odair, your decent looks and mediocre sense of humor are of such use to me."

"They could be," Finnick winked. "Think about it, will you?"

Finnick slipped back into the crowd of his adoring fans, leaving Johanna alone at the bar.

She didn't think about it. She didn't need to.

* * *

The next time they interacted, Johanna was different. Finnick could tell, the other victors could tell. It was no secret what Snow did to victors if they didn't comply with his wishes. 

On the morning of the 72nd Hunger Games, he joined her at the coffee bar in the Mentors' Lounge. She didn't react when he slid up next to her.

"Good morning. Want some help with that?" he asked, pointing to her half-prepared cup of coffee. 

She didn't glance at him. "From you? No."

Finnick shrugged. "Shame. I hear the stuff tastes horrible plain. Nothing a few sugar cubes can't help." With a smile and a flick of his wrist, Finnick added a few sugar cubes to his own coffee. Johanna looked at him then, a snarl on her lips.

"That looks disgusting."

"Better than what you've got," Finnick retorted, looking at her cup of black coffee. Johanna just smirked, and took a swig of the scalding liquid. She didn't wince as the bitter coffee burned all the way down her throat. 

"Tastes fine to me."

Finnick shrugged. "Okay, okay, I get it. You don't want my help."

Johanna glared. "Finally taking the hint."

Ignoring her, Finnick lowered his voice to a whisper, "I'm just saying, you might find that it's useful to have some friends around here. This life can get pretty hard if you don't have anyone there to relate to."

Johanna wanted to scream that he didn't know what it was like, to return home to hear the news that your entire family was dead and it was _"Your fault, Miss Mason, if you had just followed the rules—"_

But she didn't. Because there were things that were just not said aloud in a place like the Capitol. Instead, she hissed back, "Stop trying to help me. Leave me alone."

Finnick raised his eyebrows at her near outburst. "Fine. You might want to take a seat, the Games are about to start."

Johanna glared at him one last time before throwing her half full coffee cup in the trash can with a resounding thud. 

When her tributes both died in the bloodbath, Finnick was there, presenting her with a cup of disgusting sugary coffee. 

* * *

The two of them frequented the same parties. Capitol gossip suggested that they're hooking up, having sex, engaged in a passionate secret love affair. None of that was true, of course. Finnick and Johanna were ~~friends~~ allies. It was purely coincidental that they appeared in the same places occasionally. 

"How many of those have you had?" Johanna asked, glancing at Finnick's drink. She sauntered up to him at a party one late night. She was bored and wanted to leave, but her stylist had given her very strict instructions to not leave before three hours after arrival. It was a post-Games celebration that most victors attended, and Johanna was still young and not bad looking, so she was under some screwed up obligation to go.

Finnick glanced at her. "Not sure. Wanna taste?" Johanna took a look at the bright blue drink and grimaced.

"I'll pass. You sound drunk."

"Maybe a little," he laughed softly. "Doesn't matter. I don't have a date tonight. My stylist said I should get out, because the world will just end if Finnick Odair misses one night of partying."

There was enough bitter resentment in his voice for other people to notice, which worried Johanna, because he was about to cross the line. The line between _acceptable things to talk about_ and _things that could indicate rebellion_ was a fine one, and it was one that they had walked before. Johanna didn't mind crossing the line once in a while, but Finnick had too much to lose if he made a mistake. Finnick got sloppy when he was drunk, which was why he didn't drink while seeing clients. He never told her that. They just know those things about each other. 

"How's your girl?" Johanna asked abruptly. She almost asked "how's Annie" but she didn't in case others were listening. Which they always were. The mention of Annie seemed to sober Finnick up a bit. He gave an easy smile, put his mask back on. 

"She's good." That's all. Annie was an off-limits subject in the Capitol. They talked about her enough to remind Finnick what he's fighting for and scarcely enough to keep her safe back in Four.

They sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t really silent because the bustle of the party was still going on around them, swarms of colorful people and loud sounds and bright lights. The Capitol was like that. Not too particularly bright or loud, but obnoxious in a way nothing else can quite achieve. 

"Wanna get out of here?" Johanna asked with a slight smile. "I'm getting bored."

Finnick looked at her quizzically. "And go where?"

"I don't know," she said. "Your apartment, my apartment, somewhere that's not here."

"Johanna." Finnick said her name as though she were a little child who had just stolen a cookie. "We can't just leave in the middle of the party. People will notice."

"Finnick." Johanna quipped back. "Nobody will mind if we give them something to talk about." Finnick caught on to her meaning quickly.

"What do you have in mind?"

Johanna smirked and unbuttoned her shirt. "Okay, now you." Finnick did the same, leaving his chest exposed. Johanna stuck out her hand and ruffled his hair. "Let's go."

Together, they left the party. They were followed by the whispered sounds of gossip all the way out the door.

* * *

It wasn’t until they were both embroiled in the rebellion that their alliance started to feel real. It became less actual joking and more fake joking disguising actual information. This was what they signed up for, however, when they agreed to be a part of this plot.

“Johanna,” Finnick grinned as he greeted her at the tribute parade for the 74th Hunger Games. 

“Odair,” she responded coolly. “Any luck with tributes this year?”

Finnick shrugged nonchalantly. “Not really, but I don’t want to talk about that right now. Let’s have some fun. You have anything going on tonight?”

“No,” Johanna said as she rolled her eyes. “No, I can’t think of anything. Except maybe the tribute parade, which we are currently at.”

Finnick chuckled, which sounded genuine enough. “The night is still young. I meant after.” Or, in other words: _there’s a rebellion meeting tonight and I need to know if you’ll be there._

“I could possibly make some time,” she replied after sipping a drink. “Damn, look at 12.”

It was this moment that Johanna will look back on, wondering when her life shifted from being about herself and her interests to being about Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay, the rebellion leader. The teenage girl. 

“Are they on fire?” Finnick asked softly. “I think they may have just upstaged me.”

“I think they’re allies,” Johanna said, looking at their joined hands. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why is that?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “You know why. They can’t both make it out of there alive.”

To her bewilderment, Finnick started laughing. “I talked to Haymitch about them already.”

“And…?”

Finnick smiled as he slipped a piece of paper into her palm. “I’m looking forward to hanging out tonight, Johanna.”

She looked at the slip of paper in her palm. In messy scrawl, an address was printed. And Johanna knew. She knew that this was it. This was how Panem caught fire. 

* * *

When Finnick and Johanna heard about the Quarter Quell, there was no question about what the two of them were going to do. After all, Four-Seven alliances were very popular these days.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first time posting anything on here, so let me know what you think!


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